


Does Your Mother Know?

by BlackAcre13



Series: Song to Song [2]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018), Ocean's Eleven Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Female Character, Debbie is older than the age of consent but too young to drink, F/F, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Lesbian Character, Lou's club, New Relationship, New York City, Robbery, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28141809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackAcre13/pseuds/BlackAcre13
Summary: "I’ve got a job for you if you want it. A job you can run alone.” Danny said.“I’m listening.” Debbie smiled.Danny gave her the name of the club and told her it was run by some sleazy, older guy. Piece of cake. Men like that deserved to lose a little money off the top of their pile.“Wait, Danny. What’s his name?”“Who?”“The guy who owns the club.”“Oh. Yeah. It’s Lou Miller,” he said. “Best of luck, Debs.” He said before hanging up the phone.Debbie couldn’t understand why he was laughing his head off as the phone went dead.[Scattered Debbie/Lou one-shots pre-canon, post-canon, and completely on its head alternate universe. Each work is based on the lyrics of one song and stands alone. Thirty songs so far in my head, but absolutely open to requests to use as prompts.]
Relationships: Danny Ocean/Rusty Ryan, Lou Miller & Debbie Ocean, Lou Miller/Debbie Ocean
Series: Song to Song [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057028
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Does Your Mother Know?

**Author's Note:**

> This one goes out to all of you who are equally in love with ABBA. I know this song can go either way with love/hate, so let's see how this shakes out.
> 
> This one is alternate-universe, non-canon. Lou is about ten years older.
> 
> Here we go.

_"I can see what you want..._

_And I know what you mean when you_

_Give me a flash of that smile (Smile)..._

_Well, I can dance with you honey_

_If you think it's funny_

_Does your mother know that you're out_

_And I can chat with you baby_

_Flirt a little maybe_

_Does your mother know that you're out?"_

**_Does Your Mother Know (ABBA)_ **

_Debbie: _

Danny shook his head. “I don’t think you’re ready, Debs.” He sighed

“Come on, Danny. That’s bullshit!” Debbie huffed. “How many cons have I ran with you? And with Rusty? I want to go off on my own this time.”

“You can’t manage to go about it alone,” He frowned. “I’ve been doing this for decades and even I have Rusty.”

“But I’m not you, Danny. I’m—”

“Better?” Danny offered. “If it’s true, it’s true. I’ll give you that. But you haven’t even run your own con yet. But it’s hard to fly solo. You need a partner at least. Even if you don’t want a team.”

“I don’t play well with others.” Debbie pointed out.

“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me that,” he laughed. “But you don’t have to marry them, or even be their friend. It’s business.”

Debbie sighed.

“Let me go through my contacts and see who I’ve got.”

***

Danny called her three days later.

“I don’t have time for your bullshit, brother dearest.” Debbie snarled the second she picked up the phone.

“Cool. So you don’t want to make a couple grand tomorrow night?” he chuckled.

“You have a job?” she asked, still suspicious of him.

“Went through my contacts, but no luck. I’ll keep thinking on it. But I’ve got a job for you if you want it. A job you can run alone.”

“I’m listening.” She smiled.

Danny gave her the name of the club and told her it was run by some sleazy, older guy. Piece of cake. Men like that deserved to lose a little money off the top of their pile.

“Wait, Danny. What’s his name?”

“Who?”

“The guy who owns the club.”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s Lou Miller,” he said. “Best of luck, Debs.” He said before hanging up the phone.

Debbie couldn’t understand why he was laughing his head off as the phone went dead.

At least she had a job for tomorrow night. She grinned to herself and headed to the closet in her shitty studio apartment.

What could she wear to a club that made her fit in and look good, but wasn’t memorable or hot enough to remember her face or her body in a line up?

_Lou:_

Lou drained the last of her amber colored whiskey from its glass and shuddered at the taste.

It’d been a long week, and it was far from over.

“Hey Con?” Lou drawled tiredly across the bar.

“‘Sup boss?” Constance, Lou’s favorite bar tender asked.

“Prep my usual so it’s done by the time I finish setting up, would you?”

“You got it.” Constance smiled.

Lou gave her a friendly wink before slinking off her bar stool and pushing it in.

Before she could even fully glance down at her watch to check the time, she heard a “you got fifteen til show time.” from Nine, who was sauntering passed Lou with a fresh keg for the bar.

“Gotcha.” She smiled before heading to the back.

Her guitar case was stood up against a shelf of boxes containing new glasses, beer steins and shot glasses, but when she grabbed for it, it was empty.

Lou grumbled to herself as she headed out of the storage area and up the metal staircase to her office, where she’d been trying out some new lyrics.

She froze when she caught a young brunette with her hand on the knob of Lou’s office.

“May I help you?” She asked flatly, trying to bore her eyes into the back of the stranger’s head.

The hand froze, and before Lou could think of a followup line, the hair whipped around to reveal a pair of chocolate eyes and red painted lips. She was even younger than Lou had originally guessed.

“Looking for the bathroom?” Lou joked.

“Something like that.” She shrugged.

Lou said nothing, trying to figure out what the brunette’s game was.

“So, you’re Lou Miller.” The woman mused.

“Afraid so.” She sighed, sticking her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket.

“So not the sixty-year-old man I was picturing,” she said. “Not at all.” She added, licking her lips.

“And you are?”

“Debbie,” she smiled, offering her hand. “Debbie Ocean.”

“Charmed.” Lou huffed sarcastically, trying to hide her face as she felt the electricity from a simple handshake.

“This your office?” Debbie asked, gesturing to the door.

“Yes.” Lou answered coolly.

Shit. Her set was soon.

“I need something in there, if you don’t mind.”

Don’t mind? It’s your own office, idiot.

Debbie moved to the side and started towards the stairs.

“I’ll see you around, Lou Miller.” Debbie almost-whispered.

Lou ignored the shiver that threatened to roll down her spine and entered her office.

Something felt off.

Had she caught Debbie going in or coming out of her office?

She walked over to the desk and noticed that the notebook she used for balancing checks was open and her laptop screen was lit, the key bouncing, waiting for a password to be entered.

The guitar she’d been looking for seemed untouched.

“Debbie Ocean.” She murmured. “I know exactly what you’re up to.”

No time to be phased, yet anyway, Lou grabbed her guitar, closed and locked the office door behind her, and barreled down the stairs to the club’s stage.

“Really, Miller?” Amita sighed, while tuning her bass.

“Not like I can afford security. Had to take care of something.” She shrugged.

“You too?!” Amita sighed, rolling her eyes at Constance who merely grinned before handing Lou her drink and racing over to the drum set in the corner.

“Ready?” Lou asked, eyeing them both.

After nods from them both, she blinked through the hot lights and addressed the crowd, but couldn’t help that she locked eyes with one Debbie Ocean, in the middle of the crowd, donned in a tight black dress and an open trench coat.

_Debbie:_

Lou Miller was definitely looking at her. And Debbie, well Debbie was looking right back into Lou Miller’s piercing blue eyes.

Debbie licked her lips as she did a once-over. She had to stop calling her by her full name. _Lou._ She tried, rolling it around in her mind. She liked it.

Her blonde bangs were caught just above her blue eyes, threatening to fall in. Skin-tight black leather jacket. Skinny ankled red leather pants. Black velvet vest underneath. So many layered gold chains that Debbie got dizzy trying to count them all.

Leather on leather? She would’ve scoffed. But it more than worked for Lou.

Lou was singing as she played the guitar and Debbie couldn’t help noting her thick Australian accent, and the sultry singing voice that was as soft as Lou’s vest and as smooth as her stick straight hair.

They kept stealing glances of each other, each one trying to make the other one shy enough to look away bashfully. But neither backed down.

Debbie wanted her.

She fiddled with the fake ID in her coat pocket. Was it worth using it to buy a drink, or was this the idiotic, mindless way she’d get caught?

Lou could have already kicked her out earlier, but she hadn’t. maybe she’d been eager to play with her band, or maybe she’d sensed the same thing that Debbie had and let her go.

Debbie decided to try her luck. She could always run.

She reluctantly looked away from Lou, who smirked in response thinking she’d won their battle of eye contact.

Debbie sauntered over to the bar and slipped a twenty across the beer-covered service in the direction of the bartender, who kept looking up at the band.

“You friends with Lou?” Debbie asked, hoping to seem casual.

“Sorta,” she smiled. “She’s my boss though. The drummer’s my roommate. We tend bar together.”

Debbie nodded, taking mental notes of it all. “What’s your name?” Debbie asked.

“Call me, Nine.” Nine Ball grinned.

“Alright,” Debbie nodded. “What do you drink?”

“Nah, I can’t do that.” She shook her head.

“Sure, you can,” Debbie smirked, sliding another twenty towards her. “Pour one for yourself. And then make one for Lou.”

“For the boss?”

“Yes.” Debbie concluded, eyes shimmering.

“Can I get you anything,” Nine Ball paused.

“Debbie.” She offered since she hadn’t been carded. “Grey Goose martini. Super dirty.”

“You got it.”

Debbie waited for the drinks, trying not to steal glances of Lou as the music played.

Debbie gladly accepted hers and knocked it back in a few gulps before handing the martini glass back to the bartender.

She took Lou’s in her hands and breathed it in. Straight whiskey.

She thanked Nine with a wave and moved to the opposite corner of the bar nearest to the stage. Debbie locked eyes with Lou once more as she put the drink down on the bar, but turned quickly away from the stage. She shimmied her coat off and sat it down on the bar stool next to her.

She could feel someone staring at her back, and she prayed it was Lou.

She paused for a moment as she played with the little red straw in Lou’s whiskey. Had Danny set her up on purpose?

Prank or not. She decided she didn’t care.

_Lou:_

“That seat taken?” Lou whispered into Debbie’s ear, smiling as goosebumps appeared on Debbie’s shoulders and back.

Debbie removed her coat from the seat as she nodded. “Was saving it for you.”

Lou nodded in return as she took the seat. “This for me, too?” she smirked, cupping the glass of whiskey.

Lou watched Debbie from the corner of her eye as Debbie watched her take back a pull of whiskey and the sigh at the taste.

“Your name sounds familiar,” Lou admitted. “Ocean, I mean.”

“You’ll figure it out soon enough.” Debbie mumbled.

“Did you like the set?” Lou asked, changing the subject. She was genuinely curious how people perceived their music.

Debbie smiled. “Yes, but I was honestly a little distracted.”

Lou laughed lightly.

“By you.” Debbie finished.

“Didn’t expect you to be that bold, Ocean.” Lou smirked.

Debbie’s hand started to trail up Lou’s thigh slowly, and Lou took a sip of her drink to distract from the heat until she realized that Debbie’s hand was slinking towards her back pocket and not, Lou realized, where she’d wanted it to go.

Lou placed her hand on top of Debbie’s and gripped it.

“How much cash you make tonight, Ocean?” Lou asked, realizing what Debbie was really doing at her club.

Debbie was silent.

“Debbie.” Lou whispered.

Lou could see Debbie visually shudder at the use of her name in such a low tone.

“Debbie, baby,” Lou whispered, tucking a strand of Debbie’s hair behind her ear. “Honey, were you trying to rob me?”

Debbie gulped.

“Not you.” Debbie whispered, reaching for Lou’s drink.

Lou watched Debbie, with great concentration as she lightly sipped whiskey. She waited.

“I was going to rob your club, not you.” Debbie admitted, putting the glass back down in front of Lou.

“My club is me.” Lou hissed. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because I saw you.” Debbie whispered.

“No, Ocean. You got caught.” Lou corrected her.

“No, Miller,” Debbie mimicked her. “I figured I shouldn’t rob someone I wanted to fuck me.”

Lou choked on air and tried to mask it with a sip of her whiskey.

“Interested?” Debbie smirked.

“Do you remember the way back to my office you were trying to steal from?” Lou breathed, playing with the strap of Debbie’s dress.

Debbie nodded and took Lou’s hand.

***

“Did you think you were gonna manage to take a wad of cash from my pocket because I was distracted by your hand on my thigh?” Lou asked, pushing Debbie up against the filing cabinet.

“Weren’t you?” Debbie breathed. “Took you a second to realize what I was trying to do.

“You know what they used to do to thieves?” Lou asked, brushing Debbie’s hair off her shoulder.

“Cut off their hands?” Debbie laughed, but it was strained.

Lou could her Debbie’s pulse hastening.

“Make sure everyone knew they were a thief,” Lou elaborated. “So I think you need to be marked.”

“Mark me, then.” Debbie breathed.

Lou sucked at Debbie’s pulse point until it shone purple-blue and moved her way down Debbie’s neck doing the same.

“Do you still want me to fuck you, Ocean?” Lou breathed as she moved downward towards Debbie’s chest, continuing to mark her.

“God, yes.” Debbie panted, trying to pull Lou down by her hair.

“Good day for a dress.” Lou snickered, kneeling down in front of Debbie.

***

_Debbie:_

Lou traced a line along Debbie’s naked shoulder.

After things had escalated in Lou’s office, Debbie had begged Lou to take her home. A few stalls of kissing in the alley and making out on Lou’s bike later, they were cuddled together under Lou’s sheets after Debbie had returned the favor.

She thought for a minute.

“Do your parents know that you’re—” she cut off not knowing if Debbie had even had the time to process what or who she preferred sexually and romantically.

“Bi?” She asked, finishing Lou’s question.

Lou nodded.

“No,” she paused. “But Danny does”

“Danny?” Lou asked.

“My brother.” Debbie answered. She wondered if that helped Lou connect the dots of Ocean sounding familiar to her.

There was a beat of silence.

“He is too,” she added. “He’s the one who helped me realize…”

Lou smiled. Pocketing questions about him for another time.

“I’m glad you weren’t alone. That you have someone.” She hummed honestly.

“Well, I have you.”

Lou shook her head.

“Debs.”

Debbie smiled at the nickname. Only Danny called her that.

“You’re so young.” Lou sighed.

Debbie flinched. But it was to be expected.

“Didn’t seem to have a problem with that when my head was between your thighs.” Debbie snapped.

“Could say the same to you.” Lou returned pointedly.

Debbie snuggled closer to Lou and pulled the sheets over her shoulders.

“Do your parents know what you were doing tonight?” Lou asked with a serious face.

“That I was doing you?” Debbie smirked.

Lou rolled her eyes. “That you were trying to rob a night club.”

“Yes.” Debbie nodded, honesty in her eyes.

Lou waited for more.

“Danny’s the one who gave me the tip,” Debbie smiled. “Though he left out a few details I’ll have to get him back for. But this—you—gave me an idea.”

“An idea?”

“I think Danny wanted me to find a partner.” Debbie grinned, kissing Lou’s shoulder.

“Well, I may be old. But I think you’ve got time to settle down, Debs,” Lou laughed. “We both know you used a fake ID tonight.”

“Two weeks,” Debbie muttered.

“What?”

“21 in two weeks.” Debbie finished.

“God, I’m robbing the cradle.” Lou sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You can’t be more than thirty.” Debbie offered.

“On the nose.” Lou admitted sheepishly.

“I didn’t mean that kind of partner.” Debbie said.

“Oh?” Lou laughed, “too soon for a proposal, honey?”

“What if I told you I needed help finding some diamonds and I could offer you those,” Debbie continued. “Or some cold hard cash?”

“What makes you think I’m interested in being a criminal?” Lou snorted.

“Your vodka tastes like shit.” Debbie concluded.

“Riiiight. So you ask me to be a criminal and you insult my liquor selection?” Lou asked.

But Lou wasn’t any more defensive than that. Debbie knew that Lou wanted to see her connect the dots about Lou.

“It’s watered down. A lot,” Debbie laughed. “And nobody’s carded me in there. Twice. I was in this morning to stake things out. I’m sure you have excellent taste in alcohol, actually.”

Lou smirked.

“And I figure when we start doing jobs, we can do an even split. 50/50.”

“Hey, I’m not your partner. Yet.” Lou laughed stopping her from splitting their non existent earnings.

“Work one job with me. Then you can decide.”

“Alright, Ocean. It’s a date.”

“I’m not your partner. Yet.” Debbie echoed.

“Go on one date with me,” Lou winked. “Then you can decide.”


End file.
